Fresh Tears over Old Griefs
by alliterator
Summary: Kennedy receives a late night visit. Post-Showtime.


TITLE: Fresh Tears over Old Griefs  
AUTHOR: alliterator  
SUMMARY: Kennedy receives a late night visit. Post-Showtime.  
DISCLAIMER: All belongs to Mutant Enemy and the Great and Powerful Joss.  
NOTE I: There were two things that I wanted to see in Showtime. One was a non-MarySueish Kennedy and the second was the First Evil being actually scary. The jury is still out on Kennedy, but the First Evil has been reduced a plain, all-talk, all-boring villain. So I wrote this.  
NOTE II: The title comes from a quote from Euripides, a Greek dramatist: "Waste not fresh tears over old griefs."

The light on the porch of the Summers' home flickered on and off, one moment giving off an eerie glow and then next plunging the porch into darkness. The electricity had just been reconnected a few hours earlier and there were still some shortages. According to Xander, "If you've got a crazed robot attack or a window repeatedly broken by evil minions, I'm there, but the most I know about wiring is how to plug in the microwave."

Kennedy sat on the steps of the porch and rested her chin on the palm of her hand. If the last week had been full of tension, then the last hour you could cut through it with a dull butter knife. Buffy had come home with Spike and from the way he looked, he had been through something too horrible to imagine. Buffy had covered him with a blanket and let him lie down in one of the rooms before anyone could see the scars that had been carved into him, but Kennedy knew it was bad.

Kennedy didn't question Buffy about why they needed Spike. She accepted that they did, because Buffy said so. Buffy was the Slayer; Kennedy was just a Slayer-in-Training. But still, she wondered why? Why was Spike so important that both the First and Buffy wanted him? Was it because of the soul they said he had now? A vampire with a soul was an anomaly and surely he must be important. But her Watcher had told her that there was a vampire with a soul living in LA, so if there were two of them, what was so important about this one?

With the thought of her Watcher, Kennedy chin sank further into her hand. She had just been eight when she found out and her parents had been so very excited. Kennedy had been, too, at first. Then she found out she would have to move away, to go live with her Watcher and she rebelled. She did not want to go; she did not want to live anywhere but her home. She had arguments with her parents that eventually led to her having tantrums, screaming that she did not want to be taken away. To mediate this problem, her Watcher was sent to live with her.

At 14, Kennedy happily moved away from her home to train with her Watcher in England. In the six years she had gotten to know her, she had learned that her Watcher was the kindest, gentlest person she had ever known and loved her. She knew the Council disliked the kind of mother-daughter relationship Kennedy and her Watcher had, but they took no interference for fear that Kennedy would become the next Slayer and not obey them. The Slayer had just died and the Council was looking for signs of who the new Slayer would be. After a few months, Kennedy got word that a girl named Kendra had just been called to be the new Slayer and Kennedy was more than delighted that it was not her. She had studied demons with her Watcher and had even seen a real-life vampire and was in no hurry to fight them for the rest of her life. Which, if she were the Slayer, would be a very short amount of time.

Five years later, Kennedy had come home from a day of shopping and found her Watcher decapitated and five hooded men with sewn up eyes waiting for her. She did the first thing that came to her: ran. But the Harbingers were fast and she slipped. She thought all was lost until Giles had shown up. Her Watcher had told her of Rupert Giles, of how he used to be the Watcher to the current Slayer. The Council spoke of him disdainfully, of how he had an improper relationship with the Slayer, but Kennedy's Watcher said it was a father-daughter one, almost like their own. When Kennedy finally came face to face with him and saw the calm appearance and kind eyes, she had liked him and trusted him with her life and he saved her. He brought her to where she would be most protected; he brought her to Buffy.

Which was where she was now. Sitting on the steps of the Slayer's porch, lingering in her memories. She would have stayed in those memories longer, stayed with the memory of her Watcher, but she heard a noise. To be exact, a voice.

"Kennedy?" The voice was soft and even though Kennedy barely heard it, she knew exactly who it was. Exactly who it had been.

"She's not real, she's not real," Kennedy repeated, making it a sort of mantra. She stood up and looked into the yard, fully expecting what she saw, but still uneasy.

In the middle of the yard stood a woman in her late forties, crow's feet around her eyes, gray wisps of hair in her blond tresses. "Kennedy?" she said. "Why didn't you answer when I called you?"

Kennedy took a deep breath and started to talk. "You're Maddelyn Hitchcock. You're not my Watcher."

"What?" The woman looked shocked and Kennedy was taken aback before she reminded herself that it was just an illusion. "Kennedy, how can you say that?"

"You're not my Watcher," Kennedy repeated. "You're the thing that killed her."

"Kennedy? What are you talking about?" The woman looked at her with eyes that shot daggers. "Is this some kind of game? Because I'm not finding it very funny."

"Stop it," Kennedy was started to hyperventilate, but she stopped herself and took another deep breath. "Stop pretending to be her."

"Pretending? Kennedy, I am her. Don't you remember?" The woman looked at her with deep, caring eyes. Kennedy remembered those eyes and wondered how it could imitate her so perfectly, how it could pick up every facet, every nuance of her. "Did you hit your head?"

"Stop!" Kennedy shouted. _Great, now I've probably waken everyone in the entire house_, she thought. Sure enough, she did hear steps inside.

"Did you have an accident?" The woman went on. "You're never careful, Kennedy. You're too willful. You must learn not to be so reckless."

"You're not real, you're not real," Kennedy repeated her mantra and tried to look away from the woman that was not her Watcher.

Suddenly, the door opened and Xander walked out, rubbing his eyes. "What's going on here?" he asked.

"That's why I left you," the woman said. She came closer to the porch, but her feet made no sound, left no broken leaves. "That's why I went away."

"Shut up!" Kennedy yelled at her.

"Who are you talking to?" Xander looked in the direction Kennedy was looking and figured it out. "Oh." He looked conspicuously at the space where the woman was.

"You were just too disobedient," the woman said. "I couldn't stand to be around you any longer. Always whining, always invading my privacy. You were annoying, but more than that, you were spoiled. You thought you could get everything you wanted with daddy's checkbook and you didn't care about anyone else." Kennedy closed her eyes, not wanting to see the thing that looked that her Watcher anymore. "You thought everyone liked you, but everyone loathed you. I was your only friend and what did you do to me? You disobey. You're nothing but a disobedient, arrogant little piece from trash. And ever since I've known you, I have hated you." With that comment, Kennedy started to cry and as she opened her eyes to try and wipe away the tears, she saw the woman that was not her Watcher grinning at her. "Are you going to cry now, Kennedy? You always were so weak. Never could stand up to any of the other girls. That's why you never became Slayer. Why you never will be. But just in case, I'm going to slowly rip all the flesh off your body and consume your major organs." The woman started to laugh now, like the last thing she said was extremely funny. "Until then, ta ta!" She waved and then faded away like she was never there. Which, Kennedy thought, she probably was.

Kennedy was left on the porch, with her cheeks wet with salty tears. Xander, who had been behind her the entire time, came forward. "Is it… gone?" When Kennedy nodded yes, he sighed and then said, "Whatever it told you, it's not true, you know?"

"Why would it tell me it then?" she asked.

"It's Evil, with a capital E," Xander responded. "It doesn't need a reason." He went over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "You want to come inside? There's ice cream in the fridge and I can share some of the exciting adventures Buffy and I used to have?"

Kennedy stood up and breathed in a deep breath. "Sure," she said and followed Xander through the door.

Finis


End file.
